A stickier wicket
by cedarrapidsgirl78
Summary: Chapter 2 up! And Chapter 3 coming soon! I hope it's easier to read. Please R and R! What happened after the end of "Sticky Wicket? Here's a suggestion. My first fanfic.
1. Default Chapter

**Trapper: **"Hey, you know something? When I see you sitting there like that in your favorite chair, with a glass of raw spirits in your hand, thinking evil thoughts, I can't throw you out." _He pinches Hawkeye's cheek.  
_**Hawkeye:** "If you kiss me, I'll throw up."

Trapper smiled and looked down at the floor of the swamp. If you only knew, he thought. He got up from Hawkeye's cot and made his way over to his own. It was safer over there, and safety was good. Maybe if he sat on his own cot, he wouldn't give in to the temptation. The temptation to kiss him. Man, was it ever strong right now. He couldn't believe Hawkeye had used the phrase "If you kiss me" in reference to him, even if it wasn't in the most flattering light. Trapper would take anything he could get. Trapper sighed and stared into his martini.

"Something the matter, Trap?"

Hawkeye's voice broke into Trapper's thoughts. He looked up and saw Hawkeye standing over him with the gin pitcher in hand, looking very concerned.

"I mean, you went from happy and laughing to somber and quiet faster than Radar can hear choppers. What's wrong?"

Trapper looked over at Hawkeye sadly, who was now sitting in the chair beside his cot, and then back to his drink.

"Nothing." Trapper said quietly, then drank the rest of his gin in one gulp. Maybe if he just stayed quiet and got drunk, Hawkeye would leave him alone.

"Trapper? C'mon, what's eating you? I mean, besides this rat poison-slash-lighter fluid mix." Hawkeye smiled at his description of the liquor the still provided, and hoped it would at least get a little rise out of Trapper. Something was bothering him, and Hawkeye was hoping that it wasn't too serious. He didn't want his best friend to be in a bad mood all night. The night went by so much longer then. But Trapper wasn't in the mood for Hawkeye's feeble attempts at humor. Trapper sighed again and put one hand over his eyes. How could he tell Hawkeye that what was bugging him was HIM and how he made him feel. But if he did, he'd be minus one best friend and plus one blue discharge. He didn't want either one. Trapper made up a half-lie he hoped would work.

"I just miss my wife and girls."

It was the truth, but not the thought that was bothering him. He just wanted Hawkeye to leave him alone, to quit probing his brain, and let him stew in peace.

Hawkeye had no idea that he was the cause of Trapper's condition. He also didn't buy Trapper's statement for a second. While he didn't doubt Trapper's statement, his wife and girls weren't even close to the topic of discussion before Trapper checked his brain at the door, so it couldn't be that. He'd try once more.

"_Trap-per..._" Hawkeye whined, knowing full well that the other doctor couldn't resist talking when his voice took that tone. "Trapper, c'mon, please? I know something's bothering you, please talk to me about it. Please?" Hawkeye gave Trapper his best puppy dog look as he poured him another drink. If this didn't work, nothing did.

Trapper smiled. Hawkeye didn't know how cute he looked. Three pleases? Hawkeye must really want to know what was going on rather badly. But he couldn't tell Hawkeye the truth. His eyes clouded over again, and he quickly went sullen again.

"Look, I told you, it's nothing, and if there was something, it probably wouldn't be anything you can do anything about, so _drop it_, okay? And please, just leave me alone." Trapper drained his drink, slammed down the glass, and turned away from Hawkeye to face the wall.

Hawkeye was stunned. Trapper never talked to him that way. Something serious was definitely bothering him, but he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Hawkeye sat back in his chair, refilled his glass, and picked up the latest issue of _Nudist World News_. There was silence in the Swamp for about an hour while one swamp-rat got lost in the latest pictures of co-ed naked soccer, and the other got lost in his thoughts.


	2. Hurricane Trapper

A/N-Here's chapter 2! Special thanks to my reviewer, Hawkeye's Martini. I hope it's easier to read.Please read and review, everyone! CRgirl

The silence was deafening.

Hawkeye couldn't take it anymore. Two hours of the stony silence that had infiltrated the Swamp was unbearable. Hawkeye sighed and put down his magazine. He looked over at Trapper laying on his cot, his back still facing him. Hawkeye knew that Trapper wasn't sleeping, because he had heard him shift and sigh only ten minutes before. Hawkeye also knew that he shouldn't keep bothering Trapper, but whatever was bothering him had to come out. Working under these insane conditions, living in such close proximity, things didn't stay secret for long. Hawkeye just had to be patient, that's all. Trapper would talk when he was good and ready. Hawkeye poured himself another drink and picked up his magazine.

Trapper shifted again on his cot and shook his head slightly to bring himself back to the present. Trapper knew he had to get himself back to normal, and it had to be sooner than later. As his head cleared, his anger cooled. It wasn't Hawkeye's fault if Trapper found him attractive. Hawkeye had enough problems of his own at times, he didn't need Trapper's problems as well. He needed to tell Hawkeye how he felt about him. Trapper smiled to himself. Knowing that he would talk to Hawkeye soon, and get everything out in the open made him feel better. He decided he'd better get up and try to find something to eat and something to do. Trapper swung his legs off the bed and stood up quickly. He instantly regretted it, as his head and body remembered all the martinis he'd consumed not too long before. Trapper grabbed the center pole of the tent to steady himself, tripping over something unidentifiable in the process. Hawkeye looked up when he heard the commotion, and seen his favorite swamp-rat holding onto the tent to keep upright.

"You okay, Trap?" Hawkeye said, with some concern. "You look a little..well...pale."

"I'm fine, Hawkeye. I think I'm going to head over to the mess tent to rustle up a snack, or at least a cup of coffee." He got his bearings and made his way towards the door.

"You might just want to stick to that snack. The coffee will probably make you feel worse." Hawkeye studied his friend, wondering if this was just the eye of the storm, or if Hurricane Trapper was going to make landfall again.

"You're probably right. Maybe I'll just find myself a snack of gorgeous nurse. That won't kill me." Trapped grinned brightly. "At least not unless Louise finds out. Then I'd better start planning my funeral. You'll deliver the eulogy, right?"

Hawkeye smiled back at Trapper. "You bet. I wouldn't miss a chance to poke fun at you without your knowledge." He relaxed a little. It looked like Trapper was calmed down now. He was even cracking some jokes and going after nurses. Maybe everything would be okay. Hawkeye had just settled down with a somewhat recent medical journal and another martini when Trapper spoke.

"Hey Hawk?"

"Yeah?" Hawkeye didn't look up from his article. "What'cha need, Trap?"

"I-I just wanted to say I'm sorry..for..earlier. I just have some problems to work out, and yes, I know, if I want to talk about it, you're available. I will talk about it, just give me some time, okay?" Trapper said. Hawkeye opened and closed his mouth, having the words he was going to say already spoken. Finally, he managed to speak.

"Okay, Trap. Just let me know when you're ready. Have a good night, buddy."

"Thanks, Hawkeye. See ya later." And with that, Trapper left the Swamp and headed for the mess tent.

Hawkeye eased back into his chair with a smile. Everything was going to be fine.


	3. The Mess tent

A Stickier Wicket

Chapter 3

1

**A/N-Okay, this chapter has sat long enough. I'm posting it, but I don't really like it. I don't know if I'll update this fic again or not. We'll see.**

Trapper headed for the mess tent. When he arrived, it was mostly vacant, except for a couple of nurses braving the coffee and some donuts.

Trapper grabbed a couple of donuts that probably were fresh in the beginning of World War II, and went for the coffee despite Hawkeye's warning and his own better judgement. The only reason he took the coffee at all was to make the donuts halfway edible. He settled down at the table and went to work at making his donut palpable.

"So, I hear you had a date with the infamous "Trapper John" McIntyre last night." Trapper looked up at the sound of his name. He looked around cautiously, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. It wasn't often he got an opinion about his "abilities" without hearing it whispered to him in the heat of passion. Trapper glanced over his shoulder, and seen two nurses sitting at the next table, with their backs to him. The blonde was Lieutenant Carter, he knew. He recognized the brunette as the nurse who he had been with last night when they "missed the movies together." What was her name again? Trapper rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking. Oh, yeah, Baker. He worried a little bit about the fact that he couldn't remember much more about last night than that when the conversation between the two nurses resumed, snapping Trapper back to the present.

"Yeah, I did." Baker said enthusiastically.

"So, how was he?" The other nurse asked. "I've always wondered about...well...you know."

Trapper smiled to himself. He knew that he had quite the reputation for being a ladies man, and now he was just going to find out exactly what the ladies thought of him.

Baker smiled. "It was great! He is so passionate, and romantic, and he says all the rights things." Trapper didn't try to hide his smile as he took a sip of his coffee. Hearing about his exploits like this made him feel better. He could have any girl he wanted. He didn't need Hawkeye, when he had powers like this over women. Trapper listened intently as Baker continued to her very enthralled friend.

"But, there was something kind of strange that happened. Before I went out with Trapper last night."

"What?" Carter asked. Trapper paused in mid-bite.

"Well, I went to the Supply tent to look for Hawkeye, because someone had said that he was living there for a while, and we were supposed to have a date last night."

"Didn't Hawkeye move out of the Swamp because he was worried about a patient?" the lieutenant asked.

"Yeah, Private Thompson Anyway, when I went in there, Hawkeye was laying on the bed with his hat over his eyes. I gave him a kiss, and he said the strangest thing." Baker looked down at her cup.

"What? What did he say?" The blonde nurse inquired.

Baker looked up, and then glanced around quickly, still not seeing Trapper. "He said...'I thought I told you to leave me alone, Trapper'. How strange is that?" She looked confused.

Trapper was glad that he had swallowed his coffee, because he surely would have choked on it. As it was, he almost dropped his cup. _What_ did she say? Hawkeye wouldn't say such a thing. Or would he? Trapper's mind was reeling. What did it mean? Carter responded to Baker's question.

"Oh, Carrie, relax. Hawkeye was probably just making a joke. He is known for his quick wit, you know."

"I know, Linda. It was just weird. You don't think...him and Trapper are...you know?" Baker looked concerned. Trapper's blood ran cold. Did someone else know what he thought, how he was? Was he really that transparent?

"Are you kidding?" Carter laughed. "Hawkeye and Trapper are two of the straightest, red-blooded American men I've ever met. They go after every nurse in camp, and neither one would go after you if they were after each other. Trust me, Hawkeye was just kidding you." The blonde nurse patted Baker on the hand.

"Yeah...you're right. I'm just overreacting. I guess I'm find out for sure next week. I have a date with Hawkeye next Thursday. He can prove to me then that he's all man." Baker smiled at that thought.

"Oh, trust me, Carrie, he _is_...he _is_." And with that, the girls laughed and the conversation turned to other topics.

Trapper felt ill, and he didn't think it was the coffee. He set down his cup, and got up quickly to exit the mess tent. As he went to leave, he literally ran into Father Mulcahy.

"Trapper! Are you all right, my son? You look flush, and yet pale at the same time." The Father's face was full of concern. "Maybe you'd better go back to the Swamp and lie down."

The Swamp was the last place he wanted to go right now. He just wanted to go somewhere nice and quiet and try to clear his head.

"Maybe in a bit, Father. I think I'm going to go for a walk and relax." He headed off to find a quiet place.

"Okay, my son. God Bless." And with that, Father Mulcahy went into the mess tent.


End file.
